


Short Line to the New World

by lilacsigil



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Gen, X-Men: First Class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-16
Updated: 2010-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-09 11:45:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacsigil/pseuds/lilacsigil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If it is a mutant robbing those banks, what should a teenage Scott Summers do about it?</p><p>Request: Erik Lehnsherr, required reading, mutual respect. Basically, something gen about movieverse Scott & Erik -- before or after he's Magneto -- where they come off as worthy adversaries, in whatever capacity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Short Line to the New World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [likeadeuce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/gifts).



The second time that Special Agent Duncan visited Professor Xavier's house, Scott realised that the FBI didn't know as much as they said they did.

 

"Did he want to speak to me, Professor?" Scott asked, peering around the corner of the doorframe of the Professor's study.

 

"There's no need to linger out there," the Professor replied, and gestured for Scott to take a seat. "Agent Duncan did come to speak to you, yes, but I asked him to explain himself first."

 

"Last time he interrogated me for hours." Scott sat down with a thump, and pushed his heavy glasses back into place. They were much lighter than the last pair, and he didn't have to wear the dorky elastic around the back of his head, but they still tended to slide when he moved quickly.

 

"Last time I was not your legal guardian, and had no ability to stand in his way. Agent Duncan is far more interested in useful information than in interrogating teenage boys about bank robberies."

 

"You should have sent him on his way with a sudden lack of interest in 'special abilities', Charles."

 

Scott jumped – he hadn't seen Mr Lehnsherr standing over by the bookshelf.

 

"Perhaps replace it with a newly-acquired interest in stamp-collecting," Mr Lehnsherr continued, his words were light, but his voice tense.

 

"We've discussed this before, Erik. Agent Duncan is in a position to help the mutants he finds, and he cannot do that without sufficient information."

 

"I think Mr Lehnsherr is right." Scott's statement surprised even himself. "I mean, telling him that there really are people that can fly is just going to help him keep them locked up better, isn't it?"

 

"I've looked into his mind, Scott. Agent Duncan is a good man, who wants to help mutants caught up in crime. I would think you, of all people would understand that."

 

Scott rolled his eyes behind his dark lenses, where he knew he could get away with it. "Just because he believed me when I told him about Jack Diamond, and how he made me help with the robberies, doesn't mean he'd help someone else. I mean, what if it was an adult? Or someone who really was committing crimes, but not hurting anyone?"

 

"Or someone who looked different," Mr Lehnsherr added, leaning on the edge of the desk. "Someone who he got to before you did, Charles."

 

"Erik, we've had this discussion before. None of Agent Duncan's superiors even believe in our existence. He's not in any position to carry out official persecution of mutants."

 

"Yet."

 

Scott rolled his eyes again, thinking that this was a little over-dramatic, even for Mr Lehnsherr, and caught a hard look from the Professor. Damn. So he did know what Scott was doing behind his convenient mask.

 

"Professor, all I really wanted to know is if I should be getting ready to speak to the FBI."

 

"No, Scott. I don't believe that Agent Duncan needs to speak with you again."

 

"Thanks, Professor." Scott hopped up from his seat and made a break for the door before he really started his teachers arguing. It didn't really bother him – they seemed to be just as good at making up as they were at fighting – but when the house was tense it gave Jean a rotten headache.

 

"You need to trust me on this, Erik."

 

"I trust your motives entirely. It's your methods that give me pause."

 

Scott shut the door on their discussion and ran down the stairs and out into the sunny afternoon. He had a research project on his own solar-charged powers waiting in the library, but the Professor himself had said that Scott's headaches probably came from low power levels and, until his body grew into his abilities, he should make sure to get plenty of sun exposure. It was a great excuse, anyway, and one he was entirely ready to use whenever necessary.

***

Down at the lake, Scott was poking at the rotten boards of the old jetty with a stick, wondering what kind of wood might make the best replacement, when Mr Lehnsherr strode down the hill to join him.

 

"Hey, Mr Lehnsherr."

 

"Scott." He stood beside Scott for a few minutes, watching Scott's analysis of the soggy wood. "It would be easy enough to replace the poles with metal, but I think Charles might prefer a more organic look to his property."

 

Scott laughed. "I don't know, he might appreciate a bit of science fiction at the bottom of the garden. Maybe you could make it really shiny and we could use it for a waterslide. To attract new students."

 

Mr Lehnsherr didn't laugh, but the corner of his mouth turned up for a moment. "I don't think we need to draw any more attention to ourselves right now. Charles's friend at the FBI already thinks that we are the source of anything he can't immediately explain."

 

"Why? What's going on? Jack Diamond's still in prison, isn't he?"

 

"It's nothing to do with Jack Diamond, or you, though that seems to be difficult for Agent Duncan to understand. There's someone out there using what looks like a mutant power to rob banks. Obviously, it must be connected to us."

 

"They think I'm robbing banks?"

 

"Banks across New York State, with some kind of invisibility power that you have conveniently developed since your last encounter with the law."

 

"But I can't turn invisible! The FBI thinks I can turn invisible?"

 

"The FBI 's entire knowledge of mutants can fit into a very small section of Special Agent Fred Duncan's head. A section I would be most pleased to see erased, I might add."

 

Scott shifted uncomfortably, but didn't debate the point. He couldn't really argue one man's amnesia against their group safety. "So one agent in the FBI thinks some guy might be turning invisible, and he goes after the only mutant he's ever met?"

 

"That's how this kind of thing usually happens."

 

"I mean, they don't have the knowledge, and, really, we're still working it out, too. How many of us there might be, what we can do, that kind of thing."

 

"Where are you taking this, Scott?" Mr Lehnsherr sounded cross, but Scott could hear the interest in his voice.

 

"We should find this bank robber. If he really is a mutant, he's damaging us by association. And it's not fair to the people being robbed either."

 

"It is banks being robbed, not individuals."

 

"Still, I bet he's worked his way up to banks. And if the police catch him, they're going to really go overboard trying to keep him locked up."

 

Mr Lehnsherr frowned, then turned abruptly and walked back up to the house. Scott grinned and threw his branch aside to follow him. The idea of finding the bank robber was intensely enticing, and Scott knew that convincing Mr Lehnsherr was his only chance to convince the Professor, who had some pretty odd ideas about the trustworthiness of the police. Not to mention the FBI!

***

After dinner, Scott sat in the library with Jean, to do their homework. Jean fiddled with her headphones and went through her math problems slowly and steadily, but Scott mostly just stared at the page on photovoltaic cells that Mr Lehnsherr had set him as reading.

 

"Stop it!" Jean leaned over and poked him in the ribs.

 

"Ow! What?"

 

"Stop tapping your fingers in time to my music."

 

"You should turn your Walkman down, then."

 

"It's not up loud. And it's not like you're studying. What's on your mind? That cute FBI guy?"

 

"I thought he might be coming to arrest me – "cute" wasn't exactly high on my list of adjectives."

 

"The Professor likes him."

 

"Mr Lehnsherr doesn't."

 

"And what does that tell you? It tells you the guy is cute." Jean caught Scott's scowl, and grinned, poking him with her pen. "Oh come on. He was just here because of the invisible bank robbery thing. We're the only mutants he knows."

 

"Has the Professor been projecting again?"

 

"Yeah, like crazy. He thinks he can find the guy, too, but he doesn't want to admit it, because he thinks your idea is really dangerous."

 

"It's not dangerous! You and me, and Mr Lehnsherr and the Professor can take down one guy who can turn invisible. No problems. I've checked out the reports of the robberies – I think there's probably more than I've found, but there's a definite pattern. It's always a Friday or Saturday night, it's always relatively small banks in or near the town centre, and no-one ever sees the guy. Everything's okay when they lock up on Friday, but then the money goes missing on the weekend. And Mr Lehnsherr said there was nothing on the security tapes. It's all different banks, so it can't be an inside job, and sometimes there's more than one in a night."

 

Jean had finally switched off her Walkman to turn her full attention on Scott. "Wow, you've really thought about this! So, how do we stop him?"

 

"You said the Professor can find him, and the most recent robberies aren't far from here – just down in White Plains. So, if we can find him, we can drive down there and catch him. Especially if he's turning invisible and staying in the bank all night."

 

"That's how you think he's doing it?"

 

"Maybe. Maybe he can talk to the ATM and make it give him all the money, I don't know. He'd have to talk to the cameras too … it gets complicated pretty quickly."

 

Jean looked thoughtful, and doodled a little picture of a building on the edge of her page of equations. "Friday and Saturday nights are big nights for restaurants. Maybe he's stealing the night deposit cash. Some places just have a drop chute, some have ATMs where you deposit the money, but either way, that's a lot of cash right at the front of the bank. He wouldn't have to get into the vault. He could just stick an arm through the wall or something. "

 

"Actually, two of the reports were looking for witnesses in the area between two and three in the morning – they said that the ATM had recorded missing cash. That would be after closing time."

 

"For everything except bars, yeah."

 

"So how do you even know that? About the restaurants?"

 

Jean stopped doodling and poked a little hole in her page, instead, swivelling the pen nib ferociously. "When I was in hospital, a couple of the nurses had been waitresses while they studied. I experienced a lot of memories through them." She looked sideways at Scott through her hair. "See, that's why I like you, Scott Summers. You're always polite to waitresses."

 

Scott could feel a hot blush creeping up his face. "I'm polite to everyone."

 

"Exactly." Jean jumped to her feet and grabbed Scott's arm. "Come on, let's go and hassle the Professor until he tells us how he can find the bank robber guy."

***

"I'll remind you that I am assisting you only under protest." The Professor's voice crackled from the phone's speaker, but cleared with a wave of Mr Lehnsherr's hand. "I'm going into Cerebro now, and I will be out of contact until I find your bank robber. If I find him."

 

"Thank you, Charles," Mr Lehnsherr replied and the phone connection shut down. "Are you two quite comfortable in the back there?"

 

"Yes, Mr Lehnsherr," Jean smiled, and stole one of Scott's fries. They were sitting in the BMW in a McDonald's parking lot just west of White Plains, and Jean had decided that they had better keep their strength up while they waited. Mr Lehnsherr was only having coffee, but Scott and Jean had found that the adrenaline of the chase left their stomachs rumbling, even though they'd been eating lasagna only been a few hours earlier. They'd both got burgers, fries and Coke for the caffeine. Mr Lehnsherr seemed to find the idea of conducting a mission while eating junk food rather amusing, but he hadn't complained about giving them cash.

 

"If he's not a mutant, if it's some kind of hacker or something, we're not going to be able to find him," Scott frowned, finishing off his burger and wiping his fingers on his jeans.

 

"Then the authorities will eventually catch up with him – or at least work out what he did – and it's no concern of ours," Mr Lehnsherr said dismissively. "Cerebro is still more than a little random, but it should be able to pick up a power flare in a narrowly defined area, if Charles only has to sustain his search for a short period of time." He looked over his shoulder at Jean. "You know he's going to be more than a little unwell after doing this."

 

Jean glared back. "He didn't have to do it. He even said that it might help you develop Cerebro further. And you agreed."

 

"The bank robber usually strikes between two and three a.m., as far as we can tell from the reports," Scott interrupted, "So we shouldn't have long to wait, if this works at all."

 

Jean rolled her eyes at him, but went back to picking bits of cheese from her burger wrapper and eating them. Mr Lehnsherr checked his watch yet again.

 

Without warning, the Professor's voice resounded inside their skulls. "He's on Mamaroneck Avenue, near Quarropas Street – he's just started to use his power."

 

Mr Lehnsherr backed out of the parking space with his usual precipitous speed. "Can you track him and keep in touch with us, Charles?"

 

"Yes." The dizzying pressure of overly strong telepathy was settling down into the Professor's usual quiet, deep voice. "Surprisingly, yes. It's quite easy, as it turns out. I can see exactly where you are."

 

Mr Lehnsherr broke the speed limit along the almost empty street, swerving neatly onto the wrong side of the road to get around a delivery truck, in a manouevre that made even Jean blink. Scott held tightly to the edge of the seat and felt glad he was wearing his seatbelt. He trusted Mr Lehnsherr's driving – he could and would move other cars out of the way in an emergency – but that didn't mean that he and Jean weren't rattling around in the back seat like beans in maracas.

 

"You're about a block away, now." The Professor's voice was now much more controlled, and Scott would have thought his voice was as close as if he was in the next seat, not thirty miles away.

 

Mr Lehnsherr hit the brakes, and Jean grabbed the leftovers from their dinner with her telekinesis before they flew forward into the front seat. Scott looked over at her.

"What?" she muttered, "The Professor will never allow us out again if we leave garbage all over his car."

 

"Pay attention, please," Mr Lehnsherr snapped, peering along the deserted street of small restaurants and stores, mostly looking a little shabby, possibly due to the sparkling lights of the Galleria less than a block away. There were a few bars further down the street, still open and busy, but the shopping area was quiet. There was only one bank in view – the North Fork Bank – and it was well lit, bright enough so that even Scott's dimmed vision could see that there was nobody there.

 

"He must be invisible!" Scott whispered.

 

"Charles, can you locate him more closely? Is he inside the bank or at the front, as Jean predicted? We can see nothing."

 

"Now that the three of you are close by, I should be able to pinpoint his location. Ah, I have him. He's across the street from the bank. Be careful, Erik, please."

 

"Of course. Scott, Jean, get out of the car. Charles, let us know if he manages to flee the scene."

 

"Wait, wait," Jean said, clutching Scott's arm. "There's something funny going on, at the bank. I can feel things moving around, right at the front."

 

Scott opened his mouth to reply, but Mr Lehnsherr beat him to it. "You're right. There's a magnetic fluctuation, but I don't know what it is. I'll stop it."

 

"No, wait!" Scott put out a hand. "If you do that, he'll know we're onto him. Can you stop him from doing whatever it is quickly?"

 

"Yes, if I was permitted, Scott."

 

"Okay, good. We need to go over to him, and, if he tries to escape with his powers, you can stop him, Mr Lehnsherr. If he tries to run, Jean can grab him."

 

"And if he tries to attack us?"

 

"I'll shoot him."

 

"An excellent plan."

 

The three of them left the car, Jean and Scott pulling up the hoods of their sweatshirts to hide their faces from cameras. Mr Lehnsherr wore his usual hat, although Scott had argued that disguising himself in his regular clothes was not much of a disguise, really. They crossed the road well away from the bank, moving down the same side of the street on which the mysterious mutant stood, according to the Professor. Directly opposite the bank was a gap between two restaurants, with two large dumpsters almost protruding into the street. As they got closer, they could hear a constant stream of whispering coming from the gap.

 

"Okay, okay, that's it, okay, come on, okay…"

 

Jean and Mr Lehnsherr both frowned as the man spoke, and glanced across at the bank in unison. Scott took the opportunity to walk around the corner and confront the man before Mr Lehnsherr or the Professor decided that an adult should do it.

 

A solid, balding man in his late thirties stood in the alley, dressed all in black. A big hiking backpack rested against his legs, and he was concentrating so hard on the bank across the street that he didn't even notice Scott for a moment.

 

"We know what you're doing. Stop it, right now." Scott was surprised at how calm his voiced sounded.

 

"What the hell? Get out of here, kid."

 

Mr Lehnsherr stepped casually around the corner, Jean beside him. "I would strongly recommend that you follow his instructions," he said to the man, his voice cool.

 

The man smirked, then flinched, and Mr Lehnsherr smiled. "As you see, your power will not work on me."

 

"I'm not trying to make it work on you, asshole! Who are you, anyway? How do you even know about me?"

 

"You have to stop these robberies," Scott said, looking closely at the man so that he would recognise him again.

 

"Yeah, right. Are you the freak police? You can do stuff too, can't you? At least, your old man can."

 

"He's not my old man. And yes, we can do 'stuff'. We're mutants, and so are you. Genetic exceptions. We thought you might like to know that the FBI is onto you."

 

"Scott!" The Professor's voice was loud and astonished in Scott's head, and he could see that Jean and Mr Lehnsherr had heard him, too. "You shouldn't be sharing that information with this criminal."

 

Jean stepped forward to stand by Scott. "The FBI doesn't know much about your powers, but they do know that there are people who can do extraordinary things."

 

The man laughed. "You're on my side? You see me teleporting money out of a bank and you're on my side?"

 

"You can teleport objects?" Mr Lehnsherr's voice was alive with interest.

 

"Erik." The Professor's voice was still loud in their minds. "This man is not an ally, and he is certainly not a colleague. You need to stop this."

 

"Objects, yeah, or myself. At least, I can when you're not messing it up. But look, I understand you, seriously. I'm on your turf here. I'm causing trouble for you. I'll get out of here, go work somewhere else."

 

"Robbing banks isn't exactly a low-profile activity," Scott commented. "Any chance you could find a different line of work?"

 

"The last thing you want," added Mr Lehnsherr, "is for the authorities to find you and try to figure out your powers. They would be delighted to have a test subject to hand."

 

Jean nodded fervently. "You probably don't want to go to come and stay with us or anything, but you shouldn't be robbing-" Her face went suddenly blank as she lurched forward a step and clamped a hand on the man's balding head. His face had become equally expressionless, and he released his hold on the backpack.

 

"Jean?" Scott said, putting a hand on her rigid shoulder.

 

"Charles, stop this." Mr Lehnsherr's fists were clenched.

 

"I've read his thoughts." The Professor's voice was entirely steady, and was both in their minds and spoken through Jean's mouth. His intonation sounded odd in her high voice. "He's a criminal through and through, and he's going to end up captured. I've wiped his mind of knowledge of his abilities, and of this meeting."

 

"At a thirty mile distance?" Mr Lehnsherr muttered.

 

"Yes," the Professor and Jean replied. "Cerebro assisted me, along with Jean's own minimal telepathy. I wouldn't worry about Mr Telford – that is his name, yes. I'm sure he can live on his illicit earnings for a good while before he needs to find gainful employment."

 

"You wiped his mind," Scott said. "You took control of Jean and you wiped his mind."

 

"For both his good and ours, Scott."

 

"Undo it."

 

"I can't, and, in any case, I've gone to a great deal of trouble to protect him from his own poor choices. I'm not going to reverse my decision now."

 

"You'll wipe this guy's, Telford's, mind after meeting him for five minutes, but you won't wipe the mind of the FBI guy who knows about mutants? And the school?"

 

"Agent Duncan has proved that he may be trusted with information. Mr Telford has proved only that he can't be trusted to use his powers wisely. You need to trust me with these decisions, Scott."

 

Scott grabbed Jean by the shoulders, pulling her away from the stock-still Telford. Her face didn't change, but then Mr Lehnsherr did something, and, with the faint scent of ozone, Jean stumbled and blinked back to her own expression. Telford took one look at the three of them and shouldered past, fleeing down the road with his backpack of cash held tight.

 

"Scott?" Jean's face was pale.

 

"Get her back to the car," Mr Lehnsherr said, his voice completely flat. "There's nothing more we can do here."

 

"You know what, Mr Lehnsherr? I think I understand why they hate us, now, why the normal people are scared." Scott put his arm around Jean and they began to walk, slowly, back to their vehicle. "It's not about us taking over. It's about power."

 

"Of course it is. We have power. They, individually, do not."

 

"That's not what I mean. I mean that our existence is a threat to their free will. They may not exercise it often, but it's always there. Choosing to turn left instead of right, speaking or being silent. Some people will always be more powerful than others. Everyone's used to that. But no-one else can change their mind, or blow a hole in someone from half a mile away without a weapon. It's like a real world version of the way that people are scared of hackers in their computers – we change the rules. We change reality."

 

"But the key is still power." Mr Lehnsherr unlocked the car and helped dazed Jean into the front seat.

 

"No, that's not what I mean. Everyone can deal with power – we give power to cops and teachers and, and architects and doctors all the time. The difference is consent. The Professor agrees with you, I think – if he has the power and good will, he should act. And he did. He changed that Telford guy so that he couldn't ever know how things were. He couldn't even know who he used to be, and what was real and what was fake. And that's what makes people scared. No-one gave him permission to have that power."

 

"What about you, Scott? Are you scared?"

 

"I've had amnesia before, you know. Anyway, my power can't be shut off. The Professor or someone could wipe my mind all day, but it wouldn't change what I am. Same with you."

 

"And today, I'm very glad of that."

 

"Yeah, me too."

 

They sat for a moment in silence, before Mr Lehnsherr started the car.

 

"If something like that ever happened to you, or Jean, I would find you, Mr Lehnsherr. I would remind you what's real and who you are."

 

"Thank you, Scott. I would do the same for you." Mr Lehnsherr pressed a hand over his eyes for a moment, looking, suddenly exhausted. "I don't care if the humans hate us, to be honest. Hatred is just selfishness in another guise, and no-one can be great without being hated by someone. You're right. It's fear that will destroy us."

 

Scott leaned forward and smiled, patting a lock of Jean's hair back into place from where it was tickling her nose as she slept. "Then it will be all right, Mr Lehnsherr, because I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of anything."


End file.
